As I Lay Dying
by KayLyn666
Summary: Four years after the Walkers overran the prison, only a small band survived. But when a very unlikely guest arrives one night, bringing a very welcomed guest, their lives are changed again, this time, leaving young Brooke reeling again. In a world where even the strongest of men fall short, how will three children and their guardians keep them safe, when all hope is lost?
1. Introduction

"Slow down," I called as I stumbled through the shrubs, my feet catching on every root along the way.

"You gotta hurry up," Daryl argued. He was tired, so he was crankier than usual. Even after all this time, it wasn't something you just got used to. Judy was strapped to my back, her tiny hands holding onto my shoulders for dear life. Carl was a few feet to our left, watching us as we stumbled along. Rick tied up the rear, watching for any sign of trouble.

"Brooke, how you holding up?" Carl asked as he came over, helping me untangle myself from a vine.

"Better than last night," I admitted. It'd been a long week, and it only seemed to get long.

"Want me to take Judy for a few miles?" he asked, looking at his little sister. She smiled sweetly, her bright eyes shining.

I shook my head. "She keeps me balanced," I said truthfully. Whenever the little girl wasn't strapped to my back, I'd stumble a whole lot more.

"Just say something if she gets too heavy for ya," he nodded as he walked off, to cover us, as always.

We'd been walking for the last month, through the thickets and shrubs, past old, long since abandoned houses, some, overran by Walkers. I shivered at the memories. It seemed like only yesterday that I was snuggling up next to my mom and uncle Daryl, listening to her tell stories about her life before the world fell apart.

We kept on walking until the sky was painted a bright pink color. The setting sun was right in front of us, meaning we must've been walking West. I slowly unclipped the latches that held the straps to the rig in place, before slowly setting Judy down.

"Thanks," she said merrily as she ran over to her daddy, her long hair flying behind her. I smiled and started rolling the rig up, when I remembered I needed Daryl to help me mend the tear in the one strap.

I walked over to his carefully, not wanting to add insult to injury by getting on his bad side. I had a bad habit of that, 'pparently.

"You did good today, kid," he said when I helped him pitch the tent. It was a small two sleeper, but we all always managed to fit in it, snug as a bug.

"Thanks. Umm, Daryl, the rig's startin' to fall apart again," I said as innocently as I could. I held it up so he could see the frayed strap.

"I'll figure somethin' out later, okay?" he said, taking it from me.

"Thanks," I said before walking off to see if Rick wanted me to watch Judy while the men set up camp.

"You're good with her, you know that?" Rick said as he handed her to me. The four year old was almost getting too big to be carried around, but I never complained.

"She's a good kid," I said with a smile. "Doesn't complain or nothin'."

"She learned it from you," he said as he handed me a knife. "Stay close," he added as he went to scout the area, Carl in tow.

"Brooke, read me a story," Judy demanded when I sat her down next to Daryl's pack.

"Hmm, what story do you wanna hear?" I asked. I sure didn't know how to read well, but I remembered a lot of stories Daryl and Carl and Rick used to tell. Some my mama even told, 'fore everything.

"Tell me the 'un about when your mama was still 'round," she said eagerly. I hated that story, but I'd tell it to her anyway. The kid never asked for much, the least I could do was tell her a happy story, even if it made me sad inside.

I sat down next to her, leaning back against Daryl's pack. I pulled the thick winter jacket around the two of us – it used to belong to my mama – and closed my eyes, trying to remember the perfect place to start.

"I remember only a lil' bit about my mama. I know she had pretty dark hair, and loving eyes. I remember she loved to sing," I said softly. I was picturing the last time I saw her alive. "She was real strong, protective of us kids. Kept on sayin' we ain't deserve to die like that. I 'member she sent me to Daryl, told me to stay with 'im, no matter what. No matter what I heard."

Tears welled in my eyes when I remembered that. My mama told me to go. Told me to stay with Daryl. For the life o' me, I couldn't remember why. I couldn't remember why she told me to run.

"Anyway, my mama loved kids. I was 'er only baby, but she loved you something fierce. I 'member her holding you so much those last few weeks. She never wanted to let you go, even though you was Rick's baby," I smiled down at the little girl. She smiled happily, her eyes shining with pure innocence that only a real little kid could have.

"What kinda songs did your mama sing?" she asked. I remembered one in particular, a song Daryl sometimes hummed when we first left the prison.

"It went something like this," I said, trying to recall the beginning. When I couldn't, I just sang the middle. The one part I knew. "With arms wide open, under the sunlight, welcome to this place, I'll show you everything, with arms wide open. Now everything has changed, I'll show you love, I'll show you everything," I sang softly. Judy snuggled in up next to me, listening as I repeated the little song over and over, until tears finally choked me up.

We both jumped when someone cleared their throat. Instinctively, I jumped to my feet, pulling Judy behind me, my small pistol aimed in the direction of the noise.

"Whoa tiger, be careful where you point that thing," a familiar voice scolded. I slid the gun back into the small holster on my hip.

"Sorry, Daryl," I said, showing Judy that we were okay.

"Don't be, it's good you're alert like that," he said, coming towards us. "Just wanted to tell ya that the tents up. Go make your beds," he said giving me a reassuring nod. I took hold of Judy's hand and led her towards the tent, picking up our small bags in the process.

We set up our beds in the back of the tent, the same place we always did. We made sure to leave enough space for Daryl to throw down his sleeping bag beside mine. We always slept like that. Daryl on one side of me, Judy on my other, Carl next to her, Rick at the end. The adults said it was 'cause it was safer that way. None of us kids argued.

"You want food before you go to bed?" I asked Judy. She nodded her head eagerly. I shifted through my pack and found my last piece of dried deer. I had been saving it for a special occasion, but decided the little girl needed it more than I did. "Eat it quick, before Carl comes in," I said softly. She did as I said, she was good like that. I waited until Carl came into the tent, before I went out to see if Daryl managed to find anything for dinner. Now that I was bigger, he normally let me come along, even taught me how to catch rabbits and little things with my hands.

I found him sitting by the fire, his hands bloody from the messy task of gutting and skinning rabbits. I sat next to him and watched for a while, lost in my own thoughts. Finally, I looked up, my eyes locking on the long since healed scar on his cheek, where'd he got cut when him and my mama crashed the bike all those years ago.

"What goin' on in that head o' yours?" he asked, catching me looking at him.

"I was jus' thinking about my mama," I said truthfully. I could never lie to Daryl. He was the closest thing to a parent I had anymore.

"Why's that?" he asked softly, handing me a stick with a rabbit skewed on the end. I held it over the fire while I thought about what to say.

"Judy asked me to tell her a story 'bout her before she was gone," I finally said, trying my hardest not to cry. "But I couldn't. I couldn't tell her anythin' but what you told be 'bout her," I said, my voice quivering.

"You remember what your mama used to tell ya, right?" he said softly, moving a little closer. I could feel the warmth coming off him, the fire playing shadows along his face.

"She used to say, 'member what your daddy used to say when you was scared?' and I'd say 'yeah mama, that angels will keep all the bad away'" I said with a sad nod. "But daddy was wrong! Mama was too!" I said, the tears finally spilling over. "Them angels ain't done nothin' to keep the bad away!" I handed the stick back to him and stood up, angry and scared and tired and lonely. I stomped away, then remembered that Walkers might be in the woods. Suddenly, fear overtook and I was right back next to Daryl, sobbing into his arm.

"Hey, hey kid, shh, shh," he said gently. He rubbed small circles in my back just like my mama used to. Soon, the sobs stopped and I looked up, feeling silly and childish. "That's right, no more cryin' ya hear?"

I nodded slowly, sniffling. "I made you burn the rabbit," I moaned when I saw the burning hunk of meat.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that," he said with a smile. The fire made his eyes look like they were dancing. For the millionth time, I found myself lost in them, almost seeing life through his eyes. My mama once said he was jus' like my uncle Damien. A real swell guy. Sorta like a wolf. I never knew what she meant, but I liked it.

"You listenin' kid?" he said, nudging me. I blinked and stared at him for a moment before shaking my head.

"Sorry," I laughed softly.

"I said, why don't you take this in the tent to Carl and Judy?" he said, handing me the stick. "Careful, it's hot." I nodded and started towards the tent.

I froze when I heard a twig snap. I'd learned to walk silently in the years since my mama left. I stood very still and listened, the rabbit still in my hand. Another twig snapped and my heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, something moved, close 'nough for me to see that it was a man. Tall. With a...was that a knife? Suddenly, without thinking, I turned and ran, the rabbit long forgotten on the ground. I screamed as I ran, right up to the fire, nearly falling right in it. Had Daryl not heard me coming, I just might've.

"What in the world?" he asked, pulling me close. Rick was standing beside us, his gun trained on the figure morning towards us.

I wrapped my hand tightly around Daryl's arm, my short nails digging into the flesh.

"He's got a knife for a hand!" I blurted out, my voice high and shrill.

"Merle?" Daryl asked cautiously. "That you?"

"Bet your ass it's me, little brother," the man with a knife for a hand said with a raspy voice. He stepped forward, the fire casting shadows over his face. "That 'un must be the kid she's been yappin' about for the last four years," he said, pointing right at me.

"What?" Rick asked, his gun still trained on the man.

To me, the same sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. I couldn't remember where I heard it before.

But the next voice I heard sounded so familiar, it sent me to my knees.

"Brookie?"

* * *

_a/n- Continuation of "Survival of the Fittest". If you haven't read it first, this will make very little sense to you. I'm not going to give you much detail in the beginning, as this one will be a lot slower than the first. :) Thanks for reading!  
_


	2. Chapter 1

"Hey Brookie," my mother said softly, her hands tied up behind her back. She was so pale, so sick looking, I knew something was wrong.

I had overheard the adults talking. Merle said she was attacked a little under a day ago. That she insisted they kept following our path until she couldn't walk no more. He said she pushed herself well past her breaking point before they finally reached us.

When Daryl asked him why he even bothered, he simply said 'she ain't give me much choice,'.

I watched my mother as she shook and coughed, tears in her eyes as she watched me.

"You know, Daryl and Rick, they're doing a mighty fine job with you," she said late into the night. Daryl was standing close by, but letting me have a moment with my mama. "Gotta tell them to cut that hair of yours soon though. 'Fore it gets too long," she smiled as she looked me over. "It's a shame really. All this time, prayin' to god that you all was alive, and now," she shrugged weakly. "It's good to see you though," she smiled. "Hard to 'lieve you're almost eleven."

"Mama, you're gonna die, aren't you?" I asked carefully. Daryl wouldn't let me get close to her, said it wasn't safe. And after all this time, I respected him and never did anything in the way of not listenin'.

"'Fraid so kiddo. Not too long from now," she said sadly. "But you're gonna be just fine. You and Daryl and Rick, Carl, Judy. Maybe even Merle if he gets that stick out from up his ass," she laughed, before breaking into an awful coughing fit.

"Brooke, why don't you go back to the tent with Judith?" Rick said a while later. I looked at him, but didn't move.

"You gon' put her down?" I asked in a soft tone.

"Uh," Rick looked at Daryl for help.

"If ya are, I wanna be here," I said before he could answer. "She's my mama. I wanna be here."

"She's older than Carl was," Daryl said skeptically.

"She's still a little girl," Rick argued in a hushed tone.

I looked at my mama for support. She looked something awful, but she cleared her throat anyway.

"I say if she wants to be here, let 'er," she said in a weak, scratchy voice. "She deserves to make that decision herself," she added. "Brookie, you sure you...you..." she couldn't spit the question out. Instead, a steady stream of blood spewed from her lips.

"I'm sure," I said as I took my place in front of my mother. I took out my gun and steadied myself.

"Brooke," Rick was about to argue, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl silence him.

"She knows what she's doing, Rick," he said, watching me.

I waited. I waited until I was sure. It only took a few minutes for her to come back. The familiar growl reminding me that it was no longer my mama. My mama was dead.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I pulled the trigger. I pressed my eyes shut as the shot rang clear through the trees, silencing the birds that had just woken for their morning song. I stayed there, stone still, until a strong hand landed firmly on my shoulder.

"You're brave, kid," the voice of my only real protector said as he turned me away from the tree. "Real brave."

"Now we know for sure," I whispered as I pulled away, heading directly to the tent. Carl was holding Judy, who was sobbing into his chest. I sat down next to her and hummed a wordless tune softly, letting silent tears fall from my eyes.

I fell asleep shortly after the sun rose. Even though Rick wanted to move on, Daryl told him it would be risky if I didn't sleep. So they let me sleep until the sun was high in the sky. The tent was too empty when I woke up. I was normally the first one up in the morning, so it felt weird not having to crawl over sleeping bodies to get outside. I blinked at the brightness of the sun, for a moment blinded. When my vision cleared, I walked over to the fire, where Carl was boiling a pot of water.

"Hey," he said when I sat down next to him. "There's some, well I don't really know what, left on the rock over there," he said, nodding at the rock that served as a makeshift plate.

"Thanks," I said, picking at the meat. I could tell straight by it's stringy texture that it was probably a young rabbit or some other small furry thing. Big game was harder to find this time of year, even for Daryl, who was the best – the only really – hunter we had.

"Did you hear that?" Carl asked a few moments later. I looked up, scanning the trees. I heard the sound of soft footfalls, too small to be that of a human.

"Probably a wild dog," I suggested. We'd come across a few a year ago, around that time of year. They were harmless, probably more hungry than anything else. They'd trail us for a few days, sometimes Daryl would take one or two out and make a meal out of them, then they'd wander off, to god knows where.

"You think?" Carl asked, scanning the trees.

"One way to find out," I said. I told Judy to stay put, and she didn't argue. She never did. I walked to the edge of camp, still close enough that if I needed help, Carl could shoot from where he was standing. I knelt down, keeping my posture just right, and peered through the bushes. To my surprise, the little...whatever it was, ran right for me. It was little with a long tail, pointed ears, and a rough tongue, but when it licked my face, I knew it was nothing to fear.

"It's a cat!" Carl laughed when I carried it over to him, asking him what it was. "You never seen a cat before?"

"Not that I remember," I said truthfully. I stroked it's soft, warm fur with my fingers. "I wonder what cat tastes like," I said hungrily. The stringy mass of meat still sat on the rock, long since forgotten.

"You don't eat cats," Carl objected. "They're pets," he added. He came over and rubbed her head. "I wonder what my dad's gonna say," he pondered.

"I bet Daryl's gonna say we should cook it up," I giggled. Daryl had no problem turning just about anything into a meal.

I decided to carry the cat over to the tent and let it investigate. It was small, dark brown with light stripes. Sort of reminded me of a tiger. Daryl read me a story about one once. When I sat the poorly looking thing down, all I thought about was how it possibly survived. Mice were scarce, and from the looks of the cat, it'd been well fed.

"Ain't got time for no pets," a voice chirped. I jumped to my feet and ran. I was skeptical of Merle to say the least. He wasn't like his younger brother. Daryl was cold and quiet, but spoke from the heart. He spoke the truth and nothin' less. Merle, on the other hand, gave me the impression that he'd lie through his teeth if he had to. I stood next to Carl, the cat coming up beside us. Judy sat patiently on her log, watching us like we were crazy.

"Cool it," Daryl said, walking through the trees, what looked like a big raccoon slugged over his shoulder. "Is that a cat?" he asked, stopping short, staring at the animal at my feet.

"Carl says it is," I shrugged. "I ain't ever seen one," I added, rubbing it's head.

"Huh," he grunted as he hung the raccoon on the rope above his head.

"Where's my dad?" Carl asked, still watching Merle.

"On his way. He wanted to check around the tent first," Daryl said with a shrug. Carl ran in that direction, now far too old for such a simple comment to calm his concerns.

I turned my attention back to the cat. It was a plump little thing, with bright eyes and perky ears. I decided straight away that she wasn't gonna be dinner afterall.

"Can we keep it?" Judy finally asked, teasing the cat with a piece of grass. It pounced on it playfully, letting out low squeaking noises.

"Cat's aren't good for traveling with," Daryl said lightly. He watched the little girl play with the cat as intently as I was. It was hard for me to remind myself that we were always on the move.

"Tell ya what, Judy," I said kneeling next to her. "If the cat follows us, we'll let her come in the tent at night. How's that sound?" I said softly.

She looked at me with those to die for eyes, a smile on her lips.

"What if Daddy says we can't?" she asked, looking over towards the tent. Carl and Rick were talking about something, too quiet for us to hear.

"He'll let us. It could be a good thing. Keep the mice out of the water," I said. On more than one occasion, a mouse or two had fallen into our water bucket over night, causing us to waste the entire thing. It was something we all were getting fed up with.

"And if she don't follow us?" Judy asked sadly, cuddling the cat close to her body.

"Then we'll just keep on as we is," I said with a smile.

"Are, as we are," Daryl corrected. I looked up at him and grinned.

Judy and me played with the cat while the men got work done around camp. Normally, there'd be clothes to mend or wash or food to be dried and wrapped, but that day, everyone left me be with Judy. I couldn't quite understand why, but I accepted the break in the labor. I was tired of always mending, cleaning or wrapping. It got boring real fast.

Early that night, Judy curled up in my lap around the fire, her dark hair highlighted by it's flickering flame.

"Sing a song, Brooke," she asked softly, her voice ringing clearly across the fire.

"I don't want to," I said tiredly. Merle had said something at dinner that made me sad, and I was still working it over.

"Why not?" she asked innocently, resting her head on my shoulder. Rick was getting a few hours of sleep before his turn to keep watch. He wasn't thrilled that Merle was now along with us, but he knew that Daryl would choose his brother over him nine times outta ten, and didn't want to risk splitting our group up. We all lost enough in the last four years, to risk losing anymore.

"Because," I said tiredly. As much as I loved Judy, she had a way of working my nerves sometimes.

"Please?" she asked softly, looking up at me.

"Whatcha want me to sing?" I finally gave in. I knew she'd keep on asking till I told her to stop. I didn't have the heart to turn her down.

"The one about the butterfly," she said happily.

"Not that one," I said quickly. That had been one of my mama's songs.

"How about the one about the Lil' Ass Kicker who stayed up past her bedtime?" Daryl suggested. He had been listening to us talk for a while.

"I' m not sleepy," Judy said innocently.

"How about Missy Mae?" I suggested. It was a silly song I used to sing to her in the early months after the group fell apart.

Merle was quiet for once, sitting, just watching, almost like he was trying to wrap his head around everything. I didn't much like him, but I sure liked him better when he was quiet. When he wasn't, he was a pain in the ass.

"Okay," Judy said, breaking through my thoughts.

"Then you're gonna go to bed?" I asked, really hoping she was.

"Yupp!" she said with a wide grin.

"Alright then," I nodded. I started humming the little tune, my eyes locked on the blaze of the fire.

"Missy Mae why you cryin', the sun came out today, the baby's in the hammock, where she'll play all day, the sun's up in the morning, giving us some hope, and the baby's in the hammock, watching all the smoke," my voice cracked as tears started to fill my eyes. "Missy Mae why you hiding? The dangers long since gone, the monster ain't a'comin', not here today, not none. The sun's ashinin' in the sky, so bright it scares away the fright, the baby's in the hammock tonight," I choked back a sob as I rocked Judy back and forth, my breath catching in my throat. "The blood long since dried, so why you gon' cry, Missy Mae, the sun came out today, today. Missy Mae, the sun came out today."

Judy looked up at me, her little hands outstretched to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

"Don't cry, Brooke," she said softly. "The sun was out today."

The innocence in her voice reminded me that she was too little to understand yet. Too little to really grasp what happened.

"That's right, Judy, the sun did come out today, didn't it?" I said as I rolled her off my lap. "Now, 'fore your daddy wakes up. Go to bed," I said. Carl stood up to lead her to the tent. He nodded once, showing me that he understood fully. I smiled my thanks and turned my attention back to the fire.

"It's never gonna end, is it, Daryl?" I asked, looking up after a while.

"What?" he asked, moving so he was facing me.

"The death? The killing? It ain't never gonna end?" I asked. I looked at Merle who had a sick look on his face. He stood up suddenly, kicking dirt into the fire, causing it to throw a load of sparks into the sky.

"It ain't ever ending, kid. It just keeps on coming," he said before turning quickly, disappearing into the shadows.

"He's right," I whispered. I edged my way over to Daryl, laid my head on his arm, and just stared into the fire until my eyes grew too heavy to hold open.

That night, all I dreamed about was all the people we lost. Hershel, Glenn, Beth, Carol, Maggie, my mom. All of them, over and over, dying again and again, until I finally woke up, scared, cold, and breathless. Gasping, I rolled over, smacking right into Daryl's chest. He looked down at me in the faint light the moon provided.

"Another nightmare?" he asked softly. I nodded into his chest, too scared to open my eyes.

"It's gonna be okay," he said softly, wrapping an arm around me protectively. "Your mama made that promise to you and don't you never forget it, okay?"

"Okay, Daryl," I whispered before letting myself slip back into a restless, tormented sleep.


	3. Chapter 2

I woke with a start, sweat pouring down my face, panic in my throat. I sat up, realizing straight away that something was off. Then tent smelled different, felt different. I turned to look at Daryl, and realized that he wasn't the one snoring next to me like normal. Instead, his sleeping bag was occupied by a much less appealing man. Groaning, I carefully stepped over the sleeping members of our group and slipped out of the tent, the fresh air crisp, icy. Winter was fast approaching, and soon, it'd be too cold to sleep in tents.

I noticed that the fire had died during the night, the ashes as cold as the air itself. Another thing that was out of the norm. Normally, even if Daryl was still asleep, the last person on watch before the morning bustle, would ensure that the fire was lit for me to start boiling water. I scanned the small camp. Daryl's crossbow wasn't hanging on the low lying branch like it normally would have been. That meant Daryl must have took the last watch of the night, probably went out to find something to cook up for breakfast. I looked around until I found the path he had taken. Though his tracks were light, they were clear to someone who knew what to look for.

I started to follow them, when I remembered the one rule at camp that mattered over all else. _Never go off on your own._ It didn't apply to the older, much more skilled members of our camp, only us kids, who were easy pickings for any Walkers that might be wandering around. So I changed my course and decided to try and get the fire started on my own. The pale sunlight did nothing to warm the chill that settled in my bones.

Setting the fire was a lot harder than I imagined. The frost on the twigs caused them to sizzle rather than catch, and the grass was too wet to start. The more I tried, the more upset I got.

"Bet mama never had a hard time settin' a fire," I grumbled, kicking the pile of twigs at my feet. Tears clouded my vision as I grabbed my knife off of the ground and weaved my way through the bushes in the general direction of the creek. I knew I'd catch heat for wandering off, but we needed water, and since the fire wasn't starting, I'd rather have liquid to work with instead of ice.

I found our spare bucket topside next to the creek. It didn't make sense. One thing Rick and Daryl both agreed on, was not leaving our supplies all over the place. Shrugging, I flipped the bucket over and filled it up. That was when I heard the all too familiar moan. I looked up, but saw nothing. Deserting the bucket, I backed up, my knife tightly gripped in one hand.

A single Walker I could take down by myself with little to no trouble, but I wasn't as tall as Daryl or the rest, and I sure wasn't fast enough to outrun them. Even though they were slow, my legs weren't strong enough to jump over bushes and logs with ease.

_Never go off on your own, Brooklyn. I told your mama I'd keep you safe, and I'll be damned if I let you get yourself killed._

"Daryl?" I hissed as loudly as I dared. I prayed he was in hearing range. The moan was the only reply I got. I yelped and fell back, tripping over a rock.

They came out of the trees so quickly, I didn't have time to come up with a plan. Instead, I did the only thing I could think to do. I opened my mouth and screamed.

His head snapped up when he heard the shrill, sharp scream. It didn't take him long to realize who it was.

"Dammit Brooke," he hissed, abandoning the deer he had been tracking, his attention now on finding the little girl.

She was stubborn, that one. Always off trying to prove herself. Not that she had to. She was a smart kid, strong and determined, just like her mama. But she was curious. This world wasn't fit for curious children. She always listened to Daryl though. Almost always.

He cleared the trees, into the opening to their camp. Rick, Carl and Merle were all out, looking for the source of the scream. He noticed that the fire wasn't lit, but the pile of kindling was kicked about, proving that Brooke must have tried to start a fire.

"By the creek!" Carl called when the scream rang clear again.

"Stay close. We don't need no one getting bit," Rick ordered, his knife outstretched.

"Carl, stay with your sister," Daryl shouted. The unlikely trio moved towards the creek, quickly, but carefully.

"Get off me!" a shrill voice cried, followed by a yelp. They moved faster, following Brooke's messy trail, along with the shrill shouts of protest.

"Brooke, duck," Daryl shouted, taking aim. She tried, but she was tangled up, trying her damnedest to defend herself.

There were three surrounding her. She had used a stick to use like a guard rail between her and them, but her hands were shaking from effort. That was when Daryl noticed the blood on her face.

"Shit," he hissed. He moved towards her, his knife now in his hand. Merle followed close behind him, his own outstretched. Rick went to the other side, got a clear shot, and took down the Walker farthest from her. She cried out, the shot scaring her. Her hand slipped, leaving her defenseless. She spun around, her shirt caught in the grip of the Walker closest to her. Thinking fast, she cut free, her knife barely staying in her hand.

"Daryl!" her panicked scream echoed through the trees, straight through his heart.

I was doing everything in my power not to get bit. But I was scared, cold, and tired. Finally, I managed to throw myself behind a rock, giving the rest a clear shot. Even long after the shots died out and the moans stopped, I stayed frozen, shaking like a baby, tears streaking my face.

"Brooke," Daryl said the moment he reached me. His face was twisted with concern. He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me over to Merle and Rick. Merle was watching his younger brother with true admiration, whereas Rick looked ready to tear me a new asshole.

"What were you thinking?" he hollered. I looked at him, but said nothing.

"Brooke, were you bit? Are you hurt?" Daryl asked, wiping the blood from my face. I shook my head.

"I think I'm okay," I said truthfully. I think. I think.

"She's feisty, that one," Merle noted. "Stronger than she looks."

"Not strong enough," I whispered. I knew I should have been able to fight them off. Should have. At my age, Carl had taken out over a hundred Walkers and here I was, not even able to take out three.

"Where was your gun?" Rick demanded, looking at me with a mean look in his eyes.

"At camp. You were the one who told me not to shoot it in the woods, 'member?" I said shakily. I looked at my hands, trying to will them to stop shaking.

"What were you doing out here anyway?" Merle asked, looking around.

"Getting water. Someone let the fire die, and the water bucket was frozen all the way through," I shrugged. "Didn't think nothin' of it, I've been getting water for years," I added.

"Never leave camp without tellin' someone, you hear?" Rick scolded. He picked up the bucket I had dropped and filled it with water. "And don't go anywhere without your gun."

"Yes sir," I sighed. I stood up and brushed the dirt off my torn shirt. I was upset, that was the last shirt that still fit right, and now it was no better than a piece of rag.

"Wait," Merle said, stepping in front of me. With his hand, he pulled my hair off my shoulder. "Your'e bleedin'."

That cause Daryl to grab me 'round the middle and spin me a full 360. I leaned into him, dizzy from the quick movement.

"Where?" he asked Merle, who held my hair up off my shoulder.

"It's just a scratch from when I fell," I said quickly. "They weren't close enough to bite me," I reassured him. He wasn't listening. Instead, he was wiping the blood and dirt off my skin so rough it hurt. "Daryl! You're hurtin' me!" I whined.

"Toughen up, kid," he muttered, examining the cut. "It ain't deep, but we'll have to clean it up for ya," he added once he was sure it was nothing but a scratch.

"I told ya. I'm small, not stupid," I grumbled. Rick shook his head, either highly irritated, or simply annoyed by the fact that I got myself into trouble again.

"She's a little Vixen that one," I heard Merle mutter as he followed at the rear. I was the first one back to camp, and the moment I broke the trees, Judy was throwing herself into my arms, her face wet with tears.

"She thought you got hurt," Carl explained, helping me pry the little girl off my body.

"I'm okay Judith, good as gold," I smiled brightly.

"Don't you never, ever, ever do that again, you hear?" she shouted right at me. Her face was a mix of relief and fear, and as soon as she said it, she started crying again. I sighed and knelt next to her, pulling her in for a hug.

"I'm okay Judy Bean, I'm just fine," I smiled into her thick hair. "Your daddy and Daryl and Merle saved me. I'm okay," I said softly, rubbing her back.

"I thought you were gonna die like everyone else!" she wailed.

"I ain't goin' no where no time soon," I promised. "I'm gonna be with you for a long, long time. I promise," I said softly, planting a kiss on top of her head. "Now go get your sleepin' bag rolled up."

"You promise you're okay?" she asked, her big doe-like eyes rimmed with tears.

"I pinky promise," I said with a huge smile.

With one final nod, she raced back to the tent, humming merrily to herself.

"She thinks of you like a mom," Carl said shaking his head. "She was so scared...we both were," Carl added, his own face showing concern. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking, that we sort of needed water," I shrugged. "It's no big deal. I'm fine."

"You wouldn't have been if you didn't scream," Daryl scolded.

"Yeah I would have. One way or another," I turned my face to the bright blue sky. My breaths came out in light smokey puffs. "My mama's watching over me right now, making sure nothing bad can happen." I looked at my feet and smiled sadly. "Guess she was right when she said angels would keep all the bad away. Never through that my angels would be a loudmouthed, grouchy man, a crossbow wielding hardass, and a once upon a time cop, but okay," I looked up, smiling widely. "Guess I gots me some angels in the rough."

That caused everyone to laugh, and put any fears that I might have been hurt at bay. Even Merle, who I had never seen smile once, was caught grinning at my blunt comments.

"I'd smack ya if that weren't so accurate," Daryl scolded gently. "Now, let me tend to that shoulder." I sat on the log nearest to the dead fire, letting my torn shirt fall from my cut shoulder.

"How bad is it?" I asked Daryl as he poured rubbing alcohol on it. It burned something fierce, but I wasn't about to act like a baby.

"Not too bad. It's gonna need a bandage though," he said in a gentle tone as he picked the dirt from the cut. I flinched away from his touch, tears in my eyes.

"Will I still be able to carry Judy?" I asked, trying to turn to see how bad it was.

"It'll hurt, but prolly," he said, nodding once.

"Good. Moving on today?" I asked, trying my best to keep myself from pulling away. He gently pressed the bandage to my shoulder, before wrapping his bandana around the bandage. "What's that for?" I asked. He almost never didn't have the damn ratty piece of cloth on him.

"Yes, we are," he nodded. "And good luck," he said. "Go find something warmer than to wear. That shirt's seen it's last days."

"I'm out of shirts," I grumbled. "This was the last one that fits right."

"Go borrow one from Carl. Hurry up, I want to get somewhere halfway safe by the time the sunsets," he muttered, moving away from me to gather his things.

I walked to the tent and noticed that my sleeping bag had already been packed into the small backpack that Judy and I had been sharing for the last year or two. Carl was zippering it shut.

"Hey," I said, rubbing my hands up and down my arms to keep them warm.

"Hey," he said, looking up at me. "How's the shoulder?"

"All patched up," I smiled. "Can I borrow a shirt?"

"Yeah," he said, turning so he could go through his bag. After a few moments of pulling out multiple things, he finally found a shirt that would fit me. "Here," he said, handing it to me.

I turned around, pulled my torn up shirt off, before pulling his shirt on over my head. The whole process made my shoulder sting, but I ignored it.

The shirt was stiff from being air dried, scratchy from dirt still deeply embedded in the fibers. It took a few minutes for my body to adjust to the new texture, and even then, my back itched. I looked around for the rig while I tried to scratch my back, only to remember that Daryl probably had it, since the one strap needed to be mended.

I grabbed Judy and mine's bag, before heading back outside. I looked up at the clouds forming overhead. The odd silence caught my ears, and my senses began to heighten, more alert, more on guard.

I let the bag fall to the ground with a soft thud as I listened. I noted that Merle was muttering about something softly by the fire, Daryl was cooking up a raccoon for a quick meal before we left, Rick was beginning to put our supplies back in the various bags we carried with us, and Judy was playing with the little doll that Daryl had given her when she was a newborn. I wasn't sure why, but I was hyper aware of everything. Every crackle of the fire, every breath that was exhaled, every movement, every tiny sound.

"Brooke?" Daryl called, looking up from the fire.

I blinked, staring at him, trying to find words to verbalize what was going on in my head. Instead, my vision blurred and my legs gave way. I caught myself with my hands, a gasp escaping my lips. I felt someone move towards me, slowly, but I pulled away instinctively, my heart hammering in my chest. My knife was in my hand a second later, my body shaking with fright.

"Brooke?" Daryl asked again, his hand waving in front of my face. Still on my knees, I swiped my knife at him. He pulled back, avoiding the blade easily.

A hand fell to my shoulder, causing me to recoil, my brain screaming at me to defend myself, an old warning ringing loudly in my ears.

_You're old enough. Strong enough. Sometimes, you'll have to fight, or die._

I felt a growl forming in my chest, a feral, animal sound. Without thinking, I rolled to my feet, breathing hard. My ears rang, my eyes burned, my chest felt tight with fear.

Then I was falling. My vision faded, my hearing dimmed, and for a single moment, I was sure I had been bitten.

He'd seen it happen before, the scared, fight or flight look. He'd witnessed the pure strength that accompanied that fear. _She's so much like her mother. _He thought as he pulled her into his lap, running his hand across her forehead. _Strong, but overwhelmed._ He couldn't understand why, not right away. Not until he remembered the scratch. She had been terrified, convinced she was going to die. No matter how hard she denied it, she had been terrified. There was no denying that.

He cradled her still body in his arms, knowing it would pass soon. She'd wake up and she'd ask why he was holding her. She'd crack a smile, maybe make a snide remark, then go on like it was nothing out of the ordinary. He was used to it. It always passed. She'd be fine as soon as her mind was put at ease.

Losing her mother had torn to her shreds. The first two years were hell. She barely spoke. Barely ate, and woke every night screaming. They all did. That day was harder than any other. Too many died. Too many lives were lost. But they all healed in time. They all came to terms with their losses, held together by those that survived. Kept strong by the tiny infant whose smile could brighten even the darkest nights.

Brooke became protective of Judith, once she recovered from the shock of losing her mother. She became the mother that child would never know. She'd carry her all day without a single complaint, feed her, change her, play with her. She never let the little girl leave her sight. The strength that little girl had was impossible to grasp.

"Brooke," he said softly, still stroking her forehead softly. "You're safe Brooke."

He was never a kid friendly person. Never. But when Judith was born, he had been the first person to feed her, he was determined to keep her alive, no matter what the costs. Then when Kay showed up that night with Brooke, skinny and dirty and looking like a kicked puppy, he was more than certain that he would go to the end of the earth to keep them safe. But Kay, being Kay, would have died for the kids. Whether it was Brooke or Judy or Carl. And in the end, she did. He hated that. She had grown on him, like a little sister who was too stubborn to know when to back down.

Brooke stirred, her eyes fluttering as she came around. She looked up at Daryl with bright green eyes, her dark lashes glistening with tears.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting her up slowly. "You good?"

"Yeah," she whispered softly, letting her head fall to his chest, her long locks fanning out like a wave of golden brown silk. "Yeah," she whispered again, tears soaking into his chest. He knew she was hurting. She'd lost her mother twice in her life. She lost everyone, but still keep on fighting. She wouldn't stop until this life killed her, and he was sure of that.

"Missing your mom?" he asked softly, his tone careful, soft.

"Yeah," she nodded into his chest. "Her, and everyone else."

"I'm sorry about your mom," he said. She looked up, like she was gave him one of those heartbreaking smiles, her green eyes full of tears.

"Yours too," she said. She always remembered the little things. About his mom. About her own mother. The little facts. It was the important things she often forgot – or chose not to remember.

Judy jumped up from the sizzling fire then, her green eyes locking on Brooke's sad expression. She ran towards them, her little doll clutched tightly in her arms.

Judy nearly pushed me off Daryl's lap in her haste to join the snuggle session. Her head bumped my chin as she maneuvered herself into Daryl's lap. _We're getting too big for this, _I thought as I braced myself, trying to keep from falling forward.

"Brooke, don't be sad," Judy's innocent voice chirped. "Everything's gonna be a'right."

I looked up at Daryl, before smiling down at the little girl.

"You're absolutely right," I reassured her, letting the smile find it's way to my eyes. "How about I sing you that song about the butterflies?" I suggested. She looked up at me, clearly surprised.

"Really?" she asked, a smile crossing her face.

"Really?" Daryl asked, looking down at me.

"Really," I nodded. I pulled Judy over so she was up against my chest, before I started humming the beginning of the song.

"Deep in the forest where the sky's always blue, a little girl sang a song to you. Her voice so soft, so scared, so pure, she looked to the gods and prayed for a cure," my voice cracked as the true meaning of the song finally dawned on me. I cleared my throat and forced a smile as the next verse fell from my lips. "Deep in the forest, where the butterfly flew, she looked to the heavens, searching for you, a little boy sobbed as his mother fell away, and the butterfly flew, to a different time and day."

"What does that mean?" Judy asked, her eyes wide.

"I don't know. I was too little when my mama used to sing it," I shrugged. "I think my mama used to sing it when we could hear the moans of the Walkers. She'd sing it real soft, until I fell asleep."

"Okay, I love both of you, but we have to move, before we lose the sun all together," Daryl said, gently pushing us off his lap.

"Judy, you want me to carry you today?" I asked. Normally, she'd want to walk the first half mile, then get in the rig, but I hated having to stop in the middle of the woods to get it set up.

"Yeah!" she beamed brightly. I nodded and started to set the rig up. It was a simple contraption. Sort of like a harness, only made so a child could sit comfortably, without having to hold onto someone's shoulders. When Judy got big enough to sit in it, Daryl trimmed it so it fit across my back just right. We only made it longer as we both grew.

"Times a wastin'!" Merle hooted, his raspy tone not nearly as friendly as his younger brother's.

"I'm not looking forward to him comin' along," Rick muttered.

"He's my brother," Daryl scoffed. "He's coming."

"He betrayed us before," Rick hissed.

"Enough," I snapped, stepping between the two. "Merle might be one monster of a man, but he ain't done wrong by us. He brought my mama to me, even though she was bit. He coulda, really shoulda but a bullet in her head, but he didn't," I looked at Rick with tears in my eyes. "He scares me something fierce, but we need hotheaded people nowadays. You and Daryl can't watch every corner, every moment of every day. He's another lookout, another set of hands...well hand, another person to find food," I took a deep breath and looked over at Merle. "Plus, he sort of saved my life," I concluded. "He stays."

"She's got spunk," Daryl shrugged when Rick gave him a funny look. I walked over to Judy and slipped the rig over her legs.

"Ready kiddo?" I asked. She nodded, and after a few moments of trying to decide how to get her on my back, we were almost ready to go. Daryl's bandana proved to be a huge help, saving my shoulder from the harsh straps. I wiggled a little, making sure I'd be able to move quickly and carefully, no matter what the situation, and once I was satisfied, I grabbed our small bag, slung it over my neck, made sure the strap was tightly clipped to the rig, and nodded.

"Wanna get a head start?" I asked the little girl on my back. I could feel her knobby knees digging into my spine, but I didn't complain. She was safer on my back than on the ground.

"Won't my daddy get mad?" she asked.

"Hardly. We'll take Merle with us," I smiled.

"He scares me," she whispered in my ear.

"He scares me too. But he wouldn't dare hurt a hair on our heads," I giggled. "Daryl would put an arrow in his ass if he did."

She laughed at that. I waved to Merle, who looked sort of surprised at my bossiness, but followed behind us in silence, for once.

I knew Daryl and Rick would fan to our left and right, with Carl taking the rear, in less than a half hour, and I knew that as long as Judy and me managed to keep our pace slow, we'd be fine.

As expected, roughly a half hour into our hike, I heard the familiar two note whistle come from my right. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the familiar red feather of Daryl's arrows. I let out a short, high pitched, single note whistle, just to let everyone know we were fine. I glanced to my right and saw Merle coming closer to us.

"What's with the chirpin'?" he asked, giving me a funny look.

"We don't talk much when we're walking. We stay fanned out unless there's real danger, helps the guys scope the area with more effectiveness," I said. "So we whistle when we want to catch someone's attention. Daryl is a long, two note whistle, Rick is a short, three note, Carl is a long single note, and I'm a high pitched, single note," I explained. "It's a lot easier than shouting 'Hey so and so, I'm over here," I added.

"What if there is danger?" Merle asked skeptically.

"If there's danger, Daryl or Rick or Carl have a signal for that too. It's all about learning to work as one. We have about as much organization as a pack of wolves when we're walking," I shrugged. "If you stick 'round long enough, you'll learn all about it."

"Well now, ain't you a blunt little somethin'," he shook his head.

"I'm realistic," I corrected. "You spend four years on the run, you learn a few things," I added. I kept one eye on Merle, the other on Daryl. We walked in silence after that, concentrating on path. I tripped a lot, as usual, the weight of the bag and Judy both slowing me down, but only slightly. My back ached like never before, my head pounding. I was chilled to the bone, but I refused to complain.

After somewhere around three hours of walking, Merle gently laid his hand on my shoulder.

"How old are you, kid?" he asked.

"'Bout eleven, give or take," I shrugged. "Why?"

"You seem a lot older," he mused. I smiled at that. Everyone seemed to forget that I was just a kid.

"Why'd you defend me to Rick?" he asked suddenly, catching me off guard. The sun was beginning to set, and I knew Daryl must have had a plan for that, so I took a moment to rest my legs.

"Because, you're kin," I shrugged, leaving it at that. I rubbed my arms, trying to warm them up, but it was no use. Winter was fast approaching, and that was just the beginning of it.

A sharp whistle made me spin around, my eyes searching the dim light for Daryl. I caught sight of the arrows, and waited. A moment later, I heard the familiar 'We're setting up camp here' signal, and quickly made my way through the thick bushes, to his side. He had found a little clearing, with thick trees on all sides. I could hear the sounds of a river or creek running nearby, and smiled.

"Good as any," I said as I slowly shifted the rig off my back. Judy's eyes snapped open, her little face pale from the cold air.

Setting up camp had become a quick process, that we all did in silence, no need for words. Within minutes, the tent was up, the fire crackling, and the water boiling over the fire.

For what felt like the millionth time in the last few years, I was amazed by how easily we all worked together, even when we weren't speaking.


	4. Chapter 3

That night, Daryl managed to find a small doe that was half dead to take down and cook for dinner. Even the little cat managed to find us, despite having walked god only knows how many miles before it was too dark to go any longer. Sure enough, as soon as she nudged her way into the tent, she was curled up, her scruffy fur warming Judy's cheek.

Rick wasn't happy about it. He said that Judy would just get attached to the damn thing, then it'd end up dying or something. I couldn't help but wonder how long it was going to be before Daryl cooked it up for dinner, but I knew he wouldn't. Regardless, Rick wasn't too pleased to have yet another body in the already too small tent.

"I can take a shift tonight," I said as I was trying to peel a piece of meat off the bone. Daryl looked at me, a piece of deer sticking out of his mouth.

"No," he said, trying to keep from spitting the food out. I wrinkled my nose, before shaking my head.

"I'd be fine, I'd stay right by the fire," I said slowly, struggling to get the damn piece of meat loose.

"No," he said again, his tone was stern, harsher than I was used to.

"I'm not a child," I grumbled.

"You're just that. A child," he said angrily. "No, end of story."

I blinked. Daryl never spoke to me like that. Not even when I was little and always making mistakes. I sat my food down, stood up, and walked away, my hands shaking with rage.

"Brooke," Daryl called, his voice softening.

"Leave me alone," I shouted as I walked into the woods, kicking the roots out of my way as I walked. I stopped next to the stream, memories of the before fresh in my mind. I sank to my knees, tears running down my face, as I dipped my hands into the bitter cold water.

The cold water made my heart stop racing, cooled the anger that built in my chest, and eased the pain in my aching shoulder. After I washed the dirt and grime from my skin, I decided to go back to the camp, at the very least, there was a warm sleeping bag with my name on it.

A twig snapped, which caused me to crouch down, my hands already locked on my knife. My eyes swept the woods, my short stance giving me an edge.

* * *

She didn't get mad often, that one. She was normally level headed, mature, easy to keep under control. Even after her mama died. She never really got mad enough to storm off. The fact that his answer caused her so much outrage, so much pain, bothered him.

Ever since her mama died, Daryl had promised himself that he'd do all he could for the little girl. Rather, since they thought she died. He had done the best he could too. Gave her a shoulder to cry on, a stern hand every time she started to get out of hand, a gentle guide through the years.

He wouldn't lie to himself or no one else. He wasn't the best person to raise a kid. Shit, he wasn't the best person to raise himself. He was doing his best, and Brooke never showed any sign that it wasn't good enough. Until that day.

Maybe she was old enough to keep watch. Maybe. He couldn't hide the fact that Carl had been keeping watch since he was younger than she was, but he was a boy. She was just a little girl.

* * *

I watched as the pair of Walkers stumbled along, their bodies seeming to sway more than most. They were rotten, sticking corpses, and I hated them. I hated every single thing about them. They were dangerous, slow, and stupid. Easy to kill if you had the knowledge we had.

And they're the reason my mama's dead.

I waited until they were turned in the direction of camp, before I stood up and ran silently through the bushes, pushed off a nicely angled rock, and stabbed the first one in the head, landing nearly silently on it's back as it fell. The second one spun around, it's disgusting moan sent chills up my spine.

I could feel the Walker's blood dripping off my face as I quickly tore my knife from it's head, rolled away, and crouched, low to the ground, in a tight, hard to grab ball. I took a moment to catch my breath, before standing, waiting as the Walker stumbled towards me. I gauged my time just right, before leaping, my knife digging deeply into his head. It collapsed, bringing me down with me. I took a moment to be certain that he was dead, before I dug my knife out of it's head, before standing, wiping the bloodied blade on the grass. As I was standing, a sharp whistle caught my attention. My head snapped up, and suddenly, I realized how much I'd grown in the last four years.

* * *

He had underestimated her. He had assumed, that since she was only eleven, only a little girl, that she couldn't handle herself. The incident with the Walkers proved that. But now, now he wasn't so sure.

She took a bad situation, and turned it into a real workout. She knew exactly how to position herself, exactly when to strike. All skills he had spent the last four years teaching her. She looked over at him when he whistled, her eyes twinkling with a new-found love for killing. It was terrifying and beautiful all at the same time.

She knew he was there, but she didn't make any move to step towards him. Instead, she grabbed one of the two bodies and dragged it over to the edge of the opening, laid it on it's stomach, face down in the dirt, before doing the same with the second body, before stepping into the cold water, washing the blood from her arms, face and chest. From where he watched, he could see the young girl shiver against the crisp breeze that had settled in. The sun was almost completely hidden, but she showed no fear as she washed her knife, getting every last bit of blood off it before sliding it back into her waistband. She let her dark locks fall across her shoulders, her thin body, so feather light and fragile. It was in moments like this, that Daryl was surprised she survived. She'd gotten sick so many times over the last four and a half years, lost so much weight, but never stopped pushing forward. She'd sit up with Judy, no matter how tired she was. She'd help hunt whenever she could. Would boil water, wash clothes, anything they'd asked, she'd done.

_Maybe she is old enough to keep watch,_ he thought as he watched her start towards him. _But then again..._

* * *

"You don't always have to have an eye on me," I grunted as I walked past him. He sighed and followed after, like an overly obedient puppy. "Really, I'm fine." I rubbed my arms, trying to work the chill out of them. I walked over to the fire, which Carl was tending to. He looked up when he saw me and offered me a piece of meat.

"Not hungry," I muttered as I sat down, letting the heat of the fire dry the cold water off my skin. "We're gonna have to be careful. Caught a few stragglers by the stream," I added glancing at Daryl, who was shaking the dirt off the sleeping bags, one eye still watching.

"How many?" Carl asked, looking up.

"Two," I shrugged.

"Did you kill 'em?" he asked, eyes widening.

"Yeah. Daryl's technique worked," I smiled. "I guess being small does come in handy."

"How's your shoulder?" he asked, nodding at the bandana.

"It aches, but nothing too bad," I said. It was almost the truth. It ached something fierce, but I'd dealt with far worse pains in my life. I carefully peeled the bandana away from the bandage of cursed.

"Daryl, come'ere," I called, wincing.

"What's wrong?" his raspy voice asked. He knelt down next to me and looked at the bandage.

"Please don't just tear it off like last time," I begged. Daryl had one of those 'just get it over with' attitudes, and tended to be rough when changing bandages.

"How bad does it hurt?" he asked, gently peeling the bandage off. I bit back a cry of pain when the scabbed blood ripped free along with the bandage.

"Not too bad," I said in a weak voice. He gave me _The look_ and knew right off that I was lying. "About as bad as when I fell out of the tree two years go," I admitted, referring to when I dislocated my shoulder after slipping out of a tree during one of our rougher weeks. We were running from Walkers, and Carl had Judy, so Daryl told me to get as high off the ground as I could. I did so, and wound up getting pretty banged up on the way back down.

"It looks infected," a new voice chimed in. I looked up to see Rick standing behind Daryl, a strange look on his face. "Do we have any rubbing alcohol left?"

"There's some in the bottom of my bag," I offered. We had a very little bit left, that we were trying to save in case of emergency.

"It doesn't look too bad, but I'm gonna have to cut away the bad flesh," Daryl said softly.

I felt my eyes widen at his statement. I hated the thought of getting my skin hacked off, even by the man who was the closest thing to a father I had. I felt tears well in my eyes, both from fear and pain.

I hadn't even noticed Rick left until he came back holding the bottle of alcohol. I felt my insides tighten at the thought of it being poured on my shoulder. I thought about it for a moment, then grabbed the dirty bandana and tossed it at Carl, who was setting aside the water to cool.

"Wash that off for me, would ya?" I asked through clenched teeth. "If I scream, it's gonna bring all the Walkers right on us. And I sure ain't stickin' that thing in my mouth until it's been cleaned."

"I'll get another bucket of water," Rick said after he nodded at Carl. "Use that to wash the rag."

A few minutes later, I was biting down as hard as I possibly could on the tattered old piece of cloth. Tears ran down my face, my short, sharp nails digging deeply into the ground under me, as Daryl carefully sliced away at the rotten flesh, while Rick held a damp cloth to my forehead, Judy rattling on about something beside me, trying to distract me.

Halfway through, I yanked the rag from my mouth and swatted Daryl's hand away.

"Stop," I begged, breathless and dizzy. "Stop."

* * *

Seeing the young girl in so much pain bothered every member of the small motley crew. Even the ever hard-hearted Merle was troubled by the pain Brooke was going through. Despite that, she was being braver than any average eleven year old. Even as Daryl sliced away at the infected flesh, she held strong.

Upon her request for him to stop, it was apparent to everyone that she was close to reaching her breaking point. Though the wound did not bleed as badly as they first expected, the pain was written all over her face. Daryl knew that if he let the infection set in, it'd kill her. He also knew that if she went into shock from the pain, it'd kill her. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he didn't like the odds.

Finally, Brooke blinked back the tears, took a deep breath, and shoved the old bandana back into her mouth, before nodding once, signaling that she was ready for the next blow.

It felt like he was cutting my arm off. Every tiny slice burned and ached, and after what felt like a lifetime, my head finally grew heavy, my vision blurred, and my muffled screams ceased. I felt a strange, numb feeling seep through my body, and for a moment, I thought I was about to die.

Then I realized that my body was just coping. Just like my mind had when my mama died, both times. Just like my body did all those years ago, when me and my mama were running all the time, barely stopping to sleep, barely eating or drinking.

My body was doing what it did best. Slowing down, numbing me to everything. Maybe the cold air was helping too. Or the damp cloth, or the soft chatter Judy provided. Or maybe, it was just my will to deal. Either way, I welcomed it. Even as my eyes fluttered shut and all of my senses dimmed, I welcomed it.

He knew it couldn't be a good sign. He knew she was probably going into shock and might end up dead anyway, but he didn't stop cutting away at the dead flesh until every piece was gone. Then he stitched the cut as best he could with the roll of fishing line Brooke kept tucked in her bag, in a double ziplock bag. He had to hand it to her, she was a smart kid. She knew what it took to survive in this hell of a world.

Once the cut was stitched and dressed, he carried her into the tent and laid her down on her sleeping bag, silently begging her not to die. Begging her to be strong enough to get through yet another obstacle.

He sat with her late into the night, after convincing Merle to take his shift. His brother wasn't happy about it, but somehow, Merle seemed to sense how much Daryl cared about Brooke. He was getting a glimpse of a side of his baby brother that he'd never seen before. A side that was almost so un-Daryl-like it scared him.

* * *

I groaned as my senses returned. First the overwhelming sense of smell. I was overly aware that our tent smelled like rotten clothes, our sleeping bags stunk like god only knows what, and ourselves, well none of us saw a hot shower in years, so we all were pretty ripe.

After that came the overly apparent sound of the fire crackling, Judy's shallow breathing, and Daryl's ever raspy breath. I forced my eyes open and waited, as my sense of sight returned slowly, as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I smiled as I pressed a kiss into Judy's messy hair, before carefully rolling over, willing my shoulder not to bump the ground. I saw Daryl's eyes half closed. The poor man must have stayed awake all night. I gently touched his arm before carefully stepping over him as the sense of touch came back to me, bringing with it, pain.

As I slowly unzipped the tent, I heard Daryl's raspy voice ask me where I was going.

"To sit by the fire for a little while," I whispered back. "I won't go too far," I promised.

"Take my jacket with you," he muttered before dropping off. I smiled and grabbed his jacket from on top of his bag and slipped outside.

The air was crisp and cold, but the warmth of Daryl's worn out jacket provided me with a comforting, safe feeling. I wandered over to the fire and stirred the embers until the fire came back to life. I carefully added a few small logs, the crackle and warmth all too welcoming. I smiled and inhaled deeply as the smell of burning wood hit my nose.

I sat on the overturned log nearest the fire and leaned towards the fire, letting my bad arm rest on my lap, taking the ache out of my shoulder.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" a voice came out of nowhere, scaring me half to death. I bit back a yelp and spun around, before realization dawned on me. It was only Merle.

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted. I pulled Daryl's jacket tighter around me, loving the fact that it worked like an over sized blanket.

"Daryl know you're out here?" he asked, coming into view.

"Mhm. Well, kinda, he was half to the wind when I woke up," I laughed softly.

"I doubt that," Merle muttered. I didn't know what he meant, but I didn't stop to think about it either. Half the time I didn't know what Merle meant.

"Did you take the whole night?" I asked, nodding at the rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Rick took the first handful of hours. I took mine and Daryl's, why?" he said, his tone bothering me. I realized when I got older, that that was just how Merle was.

"Because you look exhausted. Come sit by the fire, the sun'll be up soon. Odds are, no Walker will show up before then, if they haven't already," I offered.

"I should still keep watch," Merle muttered. He tried to hide a yawn, but I was too quick.

"C'mon," I said patting the space beside me. "Anyways, it's cold, and you can't possibly be warm in that," I said, nodding at his sleeveless shirt that was covered in dried blood, dirt, and holes.

"Why are you so nice?" Merle asked with sincere disgust.

"Because, we're at the end of the world, it doesn't pay to be cruel or heartless or nasty. Daryl told me it was better to be nice to people, than hate them for something that isn't their fault," I shrugged. In all actuality, Daryl taught me to be cold and emotionless, but I never lost my heart. He always said that was why I was still alive. Because I cared way too damn much.

"I guess I could sit for a few minutes..." Merle scowled. "Anyway, isn't someone supposed to watch you at all times?"

"Stop trying to treat me like a baby," I grunted. "I'm as capable as anyone to survive," I said with honesty. "Besides, you never told me how you saved my mama," I added. I wanted...needed really, to know how he ended up with her.

"That's a story for another time," Merle growled.

"No. Daryl won't let you tell it to me without making it sound too nice. I want to know the truth, what really happened that night? Why didn't she come to the high way like she said she would? Why wasn't she with Rick?" I asked bitterly. "I need to know, Merle, please."

"Okay," he growled, tired of my begging. He sat down next to me and looked into the fire, a look of pure disgust crossing his face. "Your ma...she was a real stubborn old sow," he said softly. "Never gave up that one..."

* * *

_a/n - So I am in love with this story so far. What about you guys? Love it? Hate it? Want me to change/add anything? Let me know. :) Keep in mind, I'm making Merle a tiny bit softer than he really is, because we're four years in the future, and he was stuck with Kay for four whole years. She had that effect on people. As you'll see in the chapters to come. Also, I know, slower than normal chapters, that's because I'm really trying to get this one to be exactly what I want it to be. :) _

_As always, any and all feedback is welcomed, no matter how harsh. _


	5. Chapter 4

Four years ago...

"Brooke, I love you. You're going to go to Daryl and stay with him. No matter what you hear, okay?" Kay told her.

"No mommy! I can't lose you too! Please!" her voice broke as sobs over took her.

"Brooklyn, you're going to get out of here, you're going to listen to Daryl alright? I'll find you, okay? I promise, tell Daryl to wait where they left stuff for Sophia. I know it's a ways away, but it'd be the safest place. He'll know where I mean. Now run!" she said as she sat her down. She ran, but not without looking back every chance she had.

"Hey you flesh eating freaks, come at me!" she screamed, louder than ever before. She aimed her gun at the sky, shooting it without even caring that it was one of her final bullets. Their attention turned away from Daryl and the children. They stumbled after her as she ran. She ran like no tomorrow.

Merle wasn't far behind her, but she didn't know that. She only knew one thing, and that was that her daughter was going to be safe, going to survive this nightmare. She had an undying faith in Daryl, just like Rick did, like he did. Everyone knew Daryl would be the one person to get out of this mess alive, even he that meant he had to drag three kids along with him.

"You better make it out of here alive," Merle muttered as he ran after Kay, keeping his eyes on her as he stumbled through the Walkers.

"Rick!" Kay screamed when she saw him. He didn't look at her. He just kept running.

_So much for that all for one and one for all bullshit, _Merle thought. He turned on his heel and fire his own gun, distracting some of the Walkers...

* * *

"You did that for my mama?" Brooke asked innocently, her eyes twinkling with admiration.

"Sorta," Merle admitted. "Like I said, she was one stubborn sow. She woulda ran all over the world to keep 'em away from you and Daryl and the kids," he shrugged. "Anyway..."

* * *

"Kay!" he roared over the sound of the Walkers moaning and shuffling. He moved as quickly as he could, soon coming up beside her. "You're gonna drop," he said, noting how much pain she was in.

"Did..." she gasped for breath, still running. "Did they get away?"

"Reckon so, saw them pull out as soon as Brooke reached the car," he nodded. He didn't understand why he was trying so hard to keep 'er alive. She was nothing to him. Nothing to any of them. An outsider. But she did risk her life for his brother...

"Stick with me," Merle shouted, trying to avoid the gnashing teeth of the Walker closest to him. He bashed it's head effortlessly.

"We have to get Rick," Kay shouted back breathlessly.

"You're nuts!" Merle growled. He never liked Rick, and didn't give a hoot as to what happened to him.

"I'm not leaving him behind!" she shouted as she turned to go back to the prison.

"You're outta ammo, you're barely standing, you really think you'll make it even half way?" Merle hissed, coming up next to her.

"No, but you can," she said hopefully. Her face was covered in blood, her eyes were glassy with exhaustion. She was trembling, barely keeping herself up right.

"Go get him," she demanded after taking a blow at the Walker closest to them. "Tell him to head to the highway. Daryl'll be there with the kids," she said. "Please."

"I ain't riskin' my skin for him. He ain't ever done anything for me," Merle argued.

"For your brother's sake, please," she begged. She leaned heavily on his arm, breathing hard. Merle couldn't understand how she managed to make it this far. She was tiny on top of everything else.

"Cover me," he said, breaking away before he let himself go all soft. He started towards the prison, but were cut off by the herd. In the distance, they could hear the familiar sound of a car engine. They were forced back, towards the trees.

"Hope he remembers the highway," Kay muttered. "let's go, I promised my daughter I'd meet them there," she added.

"You ain't gon' make it that far," Merle argued. "Tonight, we'll find shelter, wherever the hell we can."

"Fine," she agreed.

* * *

"That was four years ago, you musta found shelter, huh?" Brooke asked, her eyes twinkling with admiration.

"You bet your skin we did," Merle nodded. The sun was starting to come up over the trees.

"My mama, she would have went back for anyone, you know that?" Brooke said, a sad smile plastered on her face. "Even you."

"I doubt that," Merle argued. "Your ma, she couldn't stand me."

"You're Daryl's brother, and she loved Daryl with all her heart. She woulda went back for you, for his sake, you know," Brooke shook her head. "She was that kinda woman. She'd die to protect the people she cared about."

"In the end, she did," Merle sighed.

* * *

They didn't make it to the highway until two or three months after the attack. Merle lost track of time. Kay was too weak to travel for a long time, and he had to keep her alive. He didn't know why he bothered. He never fought to keep no one safe before. Not even Daryl. But something about her made him feel the need to protect her. To help her find her daughter, Daryl and the rest. Even if he couldn't figure out why.

"Damnit," Kay cursed when they reached the highway. It was deserted. No sign that anyone had been there recently. "Fucking damnit!"

"They prolly moved on," Merle said with a shrug. "If I know my brother, they're alive, tucked away somewhere."

"They got wheels, we don't. We'll never find them," she growled.

"Stop," Merle said gently, laying his hand on her thin shoulder. "We'll find 'em."

"Why are you so sure they're even alive?" she screamed.

Kay was tired. Tired and scared and quite frankly, missing her daughter more than anything else. She was hungry, sore, and lonely. Merle wasn't the best company in the world, but he was semi-smart and had a better judge of direction than she did. She never traveled without her dog before, and it felt good to have another set of eyes and ears around, even if it was the likes of Merle Dixon.

"Because, I know my brother," Merle pressed.

"Then let's go," she grunted.

They walked for miles and miles, doubling back every time a group of Walkers cut them off. For the next three years, they fought tooth and nail to find shelter, food and supplies. Kay was great at finding supplies. Her skill at picking locks, and knowing exactly where to look came in handy, but they were still struggling. Her leg healed wrong, and she was hindered by a limp that slowed them both down. On more than one occasion, Merle debated on whether or not to leave her behind. Every time, she'd throw him that sad, kicked puppy look and he'd stay. She didn't even know it, but she had changed him.

By the fourth year, they had formed a bond that the ever cold Merle never experienced before. Her will to find the group was stronger than ever, and she was always telling Merle that they'd be okay, no matter how bad things were looking. She never lost hope, and even more, she never lost faith in Merle.

"I must have taken the wrong path...again," Merle cursed after three weeks of walking in circles. "I give up."

"Hey, hey, none of that," Kay said, punching his arm gently. "We're gonna find them."

"You're too damn perky," he growled, spitting at her feet.

"Well aren't you just a bundle of joy this morning," she smiled. "C'mon, there's a creek down there. I think we can catch some fish if we're fast enough."

"You can catch fish?" he asked skeptically.

"Well no...but I need to wash this dirt off me. I'm starting to smell as bad as they do," she shook her head. Bits of dirt and grass fell from her hair.

"You stink," he teased.

"Hardy har har," she laughed. "C'mon!" She raced ahead of him, despite her limp. Despite the clear pain she was in, she never gave up.

"Stubborn ol' sow," he grumbled.

"I heard that!" she shouted.

"Not so loud!" he shushed her.

"Oh, c'mon, we've walked this path for how many weeks? I think we're Walker free for once," she argued.

"Whatever," Merle was getting fed up with tracking. He was tired of always showing up at their camp weeks after they left it. He was tired of doubling back, of getting lost, of having to start over. He just couldn't understand how Kay stayed so damn optimistic.

As summer came to an end, and the nights grew colder, the physical strain became all too apparent. Though they were both having a hard time, Kay was growing weaker with every passing week. She developed a nasty cough and couldn't get warm no matter how hard she tried. Merle was beginning to think she'd die before she'd ever see her daughter again.

"Hang on," she said one day, after more than twelve hours on the move. "I need to take a break."

"It's too cold," Merle muttered, coming over to her. Her torn shirt was hanging loosely off her shoulders, her eyes rimmed by dark circles, her cheeks sunken from the sleepless nights. He slung his arm across her shoulders, pulling her towards him, to share what little warmth there was between them.

"How much farther?" she asked, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"Another mile or two, maybe more," he shrugged. "If we're lucky, we'll break their camp by daybreak."

They had been trailing the group for over a month and a half by then. They were always a few miles shy, no matter how quick they moved. The only reason they knew they were on the right track, was because of some of the minor tell-tale signs they came across. Fire pits, animal bones, footprints. They were hoping to reach them before the snow started, otherwise, they'd have to spend another winter holed up in some house or another. Kay couldn't handle the cold anymore. Even when it was hotter than hell, she would shiver.

"Hopefully they don't move again," she muttered, shivering violently.

"Let's hope," he nodded. He was as tired as she was, but he was used to it. He could survive a world like this. No matter how strong Kay was, she just wasn't built for the hard life. But that didn't stop her.

They only made it a mile farther before they knew they were screwed. The Walkers came up on them before they could even consider running. Merle could have gotten away, if he wasn't held down by Kay, who was using him as a crutch.

"Go," Kay said between gasping, racking breaths. "Send my love to my daughter," she added. She let go of him and picked up the rocks that were scattered at her feet. She hobbled off, throwing them at the Walkers, letting her coughs catch their attention.

"Damnit," Merle sighed, going after her. He didn't have the heart to let her die this close to their goal. He just didn't.

* * *

Brooke sat in silence, listening as Merle described the horrible details. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She was aware of Rick standing by the trees, keeping watch now. He was letting Daryl get a few extra much needed hours of sleep. For whatever reason, he didn't feel the need to break up the pair.

"Your mama...she gave her life," Merle said, clearing his throat. "One of 'em Biters got a hold of me, and she turned 'round so fast, grabbed hold'a me, and pulled the damn thing right towards her. I tried to get it off 'er 'fore it could bite her, I did, but it was no good. It..." his voice dropped off.

"It bit her anyway," Brooke nodded. "But you didn't kill her, you didn't put her down."

"No. I could hear the cracklin' of your fire, and I knew she could make it jus' a little farther. She begged me to kill her, told me I was a fool to keep her 'round. Said she'da done it herself if she hadn't lost her gun in the fight," he said. "When I saw you that night, I knew it was the right thing. I knew she should get her last moments with you."

"Thank you, Merle. Thank you," Brooke whispered. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him with all her strength. "Thank you, for bringin' my mama back to me."

* * *

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that my mama had given Merle somethin' no one else ever could. She gave him hope. Reassurance. Strength. Something to fight for. That was my mama for ya though. She'd give everything she had to make someone else feel good. Even someone like Merle Dixon.

As I crawled back into the tent, careful not to wake Daryl, I smiled through the tears that were rolling down my cheeks. I snuggled up next to him, letting his warmth provide comfort. Right before I closed my eyes, I whispered, "Thank you, Daryl, for having a brother like Merle."

* * *

_a/n - by far, this was my favorite chapter to write. It gave me a chance to relive the unwritten chapters from the first story. It gave me a chance to relive Kay's spunk and stubbornness. And it gave me a chance to experiment with Merle a little. I hope you all like it as much as I did! _


End file.
